You Live With the Memories
by Pasts-Hormony2
Summary: Esme reads something in the newspaper that makes her think of her past. Something not so pleasent. Carlisle comforts her through what could be, the most difficult inner battle.


**Hello reader, I hope you enjoy this!!!!!**

**This story is dedicated to my best friend Sarah E!!!**

**You Live With the Memories**

Carlisle's pov.

I was sitting in my study reading. Everyone had gone out hunting; or so I thought.

I turned and stood to get another book. The Peace of Crimes was not holding any of my interest. I picked How to Gain a World instead. I took my place once again on my chair and sighed.

I had told everyone to go on without me, that I was busy.

Truthfully, I just wanted to stay home and in the quiet.

I lay my head back and closed my eyes. The wind blew outside and the patter of rain started.

Emmett and Edward loved to hunt in the rain so they might be out for a while. Bella might bring Renesmee back so she can sleep.

I thought of my newest daughter and my granddaughter.

Bella, with her newfound gracefulness and big heart loved us all as we did her.

Renesmee was a gift that none of us had dared asked for but received anyway. She was the most beautiful child I had ever seen. I'd read her so many books already and the girl was simply an angel.

She had Edward's attitude and Bella's love.

I heard a quick breath and looked up to see Esme standing near the doorway.

I had not known she was there.

Her golden eyes were wide with innocence as she had one hand on the doorframe her head leaning against it. I stopped breathing, she looked so beautiful and naïve.

"Esme?" I whispered.

She stepped forward unsurely and made her way to where I was sitting.

My eyes scanned her up and down and I saw her lower her head so her hair was covering her eyes.

She knew that whenever she did that it drove me crazy. Her eyes were like a book to me; I read them to understand more.

I stood and tucked the pesky lock of hair behind her ear. Esme looked up at me through her eye lashes while her lips were in a natural pout.

I groaned inwardly; she didn't know what an effect she had on me.

I wanted so badly to kiss her, hard; right there. I stroked her cheek and saw her looking down at her hands.

"Is something wrong Esme?" I asked her in a soft voice.

"I----," Esme started then hid her face in my chest, "I saw something in the newspaper today about a woman who was raped and killed and I felt so… horrible."

Oh, so that was it.

I had seen the paper and threw it away, not wanting her to read it and become like this.

I should've burned it.

After I changed Esme a long time ago, I found out what Charles had done to her. It terrified me to think the girl who I had met when she was sixteen was the same person. At sixteen she was carefree and untroubled; the second meeting, Esme was scarred mentally and physically hurt. She had jumped off a cliff because her newborn son had died. After all the pain she suffered I couldn't ever be rough with her.

Even with her now being virtually indestructible I just couldn't.

Whenever I looked at her face I remember all the bruises, scars, and cuts she had that weren't from jumping off a cliff. I looked at Esme and saw the helpless woman I saw lying on the ground.

After Charles hurt her I then vowed to not be rough with her.

I didn't know what to say. Esme had heard of other rape cases but she never reacted like this. Most of the time I would make sure to get rid of the paper if it had a story about that. Then, I remembered something about the case:

_ …Twenty seven year old Andrea Martin's body was found early yesterday morning. She was raped then thrown out a twelve story building. The police have no leads. Andrea was killed only hours after her one year old son died of unknown causes. Both of their funerals will be held on Friday…_

The woman was only a year older than Esme and she had a son. Andrea was thrown out a building; Esme had jumped off a cliff. Her son was killed only hours before her.

Andrea was raped.

It sounded so much like Esme's case. But, Esme lived. And now she lives with the faint memories of Charles, her son and her pain.

I wrapped my arms around Esme and felt her grip the front of my shirt. She sobbed quietly but I could tell she wanted to scream in pain. I caressed her back absentmindedly.

Each of her sobs became more and more broken.

I felt Esme's knees buckle but I held her tighter.

"I remembered something that I had forgotten….. about C-Charles." I heard her say in a broken voice.

I had to hold back my fury. Whenever Esme said _his_ name I would instantly get mad; remembering how much he hurt her. She was _my _precious wife.

I didn't ask her what she remembered because it might cause her more pain.

"I r-remembered how he t-threw me against a wall and acted as if I was his to touch. I tried to fight back but he called me a bitch and ripped off my dress." Esme choked out the last part and I understood what came after it.

I had to keep myself from breaking something. The vase in the corner looked so tempting- it was begging to be thrown against a wall.

Esme was trembling in my arms and she was sobbing louder.

"Oh God, Esme." I said kissing her head.

"It h-hurt so much to remember that." Esme sobbed clinging to me.

I kissed her head again and felt her pull away from my touch.

"Carlisle? Can you make me forget? Please, distract me." Esme said looking at me with her big eyes.

"Esme---."

"Please?!" Esme said louder with a desperate voice.

I leaned down and kissed her; hard too. If she wanted to forget I'd make her forget.

I shoved myself against her; not hard; and delved every inch of her mouth. I felt Esme respond and heard her moan. A growl rose to my throat.

Every little sound she makes drives me crazy; makes me feral.

Esme heard my growl and pulled away startled. I stepped back. I usually never growled at her; that was rough.

"I'm sorry." I said still backing away.

I saw Esme step towards me.

She grabbed my hands and held it to her face. I stroked her cheek with my thumb and saw her close her eyes. Esme walked back into my arms and I wrapped them around her.

"Carlisle, do you think we can go to Andrea and her baby's funeral tomorrow?" Esme asked me hiding her face in my chest.

"If you want to, yes." I answered.

I saw her walking down the stairs with a sad look on her face.

I had only agreed to go to the funeral because Esme wanted to. Otherwise, I knew it would bring her pain.

I walked to her and took her hand.

She leaned her head on my shoulder and followed me to the car.

On the way through the living room I saw Alice look up at us with a cheerless glance.

The others kept their gazes low and even little Renesmee seemed to understand what was happening.

Esme squeezed my hand and got into the car.

I shut the door behind her and slid into the driver's seat. I drove slower than normal on the way to the burial sight.

I had heard that the family wanted just to bury them. Probably just so they could forget it all happened.

I turned to look at Esme who was looking out the window with a miserable look on her face.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to." I whispered taking her hand in mine.

"I know. I just want to." Esme said looking to me.

Alice hadn't forced us into any of her handpicked outfits, which was very surprising. Esme's dress was wearing a black with a modest cut that reached her knees.

She never wore anything revealing and that had always exasperated Alice.

I thought of it as her hiding herself because she had been raped.

I found the cemetery and parked.

A cluster of people were around a casket and the lowering spot. I saw woman crying and men trying to sooth them.

Children looked confused and wide eyed.

I saw the pastor at the head of the casket. He was holding a Bible and a white rose. He wore a dark cashmere sweater with slacks. His lips were in a hard line; he knew people were hurting so much.

One woman was handing out black roses to each person who was attending. The woman handed one to Esme and I then she kept walking.

"Friends and family of Andrea and Daemon Martin we are gathered here in remembrance. We must remember Andrea for her giving heart and her loving generosity. She gave to those in need during some of their hardest times. Each person here knows that life does not last forever,"

I saw Esme cringe and I wrapped my arm around her waist.

"Each person dies at some time and we pray that their souls will make it to heaven. Young Daemon was only a year old. His childhood innocence shall be his key to get him to the place where he belongs."

The pastor stopped talking a looked to his audience.

I saw Esme's eyes glaze over with the shadow of thoughts of her son.

"He's in heaven Esme." I whispered in her ear as I took her hand and held it comfortingly.

"Andrea's family has a few verses they would like us to remember: Job 19: 26-27- 'My flesh may be destroyed, yet from this body, I will see God. Yes, I will see Him for myself and I long for that moment.'"

Some of the woman started to cry and I looked to Esme.

She was leaning against my shoulder staring sadly at the people who were crying.

"You now may lay your roses on the casket as a sign of sorrow and mourning." The pastor said quietly.

People formed a line and laid their roses down.

Some people said 'rest in peace.' And others laid down the flower with solemn eyes.

Esme walked up and laid down the rose with tender care.

"Now you don't have to live with the sadness." She said.

I placed my rose down and whispered, "All souls deserve love."

When I was a child long ago, my father would say that. His harsh sermons rarely held my interest, but for some reason, to this day, I remembered him saying that.

It meant, 'Your past is behind you; the future is ahead. You get a second chance.'

I walked with Esme under a tree; the sun was showing from behind the clouds; and kissed her cheek.

The pastor stepped forward and said, "The white rose is a signal of the hope that all souls will make it to the Kingdom of God."

He placed the white rose on the top of all the black ones.

Esme stood and watched as the casket was cranked down and into the ditch.

I wrapped both my arms around her and she laid her head on my shoulder.

We stood in the same place for an hour.

I felt Esme's breath on my neck and her hands resting on my shoulders. Her hair blew in the wind, wafting her scent towards me.

I kissed the top of her head and felt her head and felt her tremble lightly.

I pulled her face up and saw she was crying tearlessly.

Esme had been trying to hide the fact that she was still hurting.

She looked up at me with pleading eyes. I leaned down and kissed her lightly, not wanting to push her.

I felt her quiver and push herself closer to me.

Esme pulled away and hid her face in my neck.

"Esme, what's wrong?" I asked; she was still shaking.

"N-nothin-g-g."

"Esme." I whispered lightly tracing patterns on her back.

I felt her shiver.

"I r-remembered when h-he said I was a demon from hell. An-d-d that I was t-the worst person and I was unl-loved by everyone." She muttered in a shaky voice.

Dear God, what hadn't that man called her that was negative?

"No, no; you are an angel, my angel. And you are loved. You're beautiful and generous, kind, caring, loving; how couldn't someone love you? Esme, you raised three newborn vampires. You are so compassionate." Esme looked up with a heartbreakingly sad smile on her face.

"I knew you loved me, but remembering him say that to me made me feel like maybe I was." She mumbled not looking into my eyes.

"Someone as kindhearted as you couldn't have been evil as a human. I think that when he said that he was talking about himself."

I assured her that there was no way that she, my angel, could have been hated. Every word that my Esme said he called her sounded exactly like him.

He was evil for hurting my Esme, he was from hell, and no one loved him. And, if someone were to ask me who the most evil person was I would say 'Charles'. He was the kind of person that not even a mother could truly love.

She looked up watching me curiously as I zoned out.

"Carlisle we should go home now." Esme whispered touching my face.

"Hm. Oh, yes home." I agreed taking her hand and leading her to the car.

Thank you for reading! Reviews never hurt anyone either!


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